Footsteps
by gazebows
Summary: Jess is faced with the task of finding a missing twin. No matter what she does, she always wakes up with the address of the twin that’s alive and well, not the one that’s been abducted. Rob also disappears, courtesy of Jess’s new job at the radio station.
1. New Job, First Night

Disclaimer- I don't own Jess, Ruth, Mike, Doug, or any of the characters you might recognize. I do, however, own Rob.

Yeah, you were right in your assumption. That was merely wishful thinking.

Summary- Jess is faced with the task of finding a missing twin. No matter what she does, she always wakes up with the address of the twin that's alive and well, not the one that's been abducted. Rob also disappears, courtesy of Jess's new job at the radio station.

A/n- So I was on my way to Taekwondo class one day, and this idea popped into my head. I have like a zillion fics (overstatement of the year) I need to update first, but you know what's the hardest thing to resist?

Duh, that'll be temptation.

So here you go, and please read and review!

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**Chapter 1**

I don't know why they're making me write this down again. Last time I did? That was what, almost a year ago? Give me a break, several incidents have already gone by and back then they didn't think to have me continue with writing some sort of 'statement' every time something happens involving my psychic powers. But this time? Perhaps it seems extraordinary to them, but it's the same as the previous occurrences to me. Well, minus one important factor:

Rob, my partner in crime, did not vanish along with missing child/children prior to this event.

Rob Wilkins, already graduated from high school, also happens to be my boyfriend. We've been 'dating' for quite awhile, but only about a couple of months ago did the relationship finally become official. It was almost funny how that happened, but under the circumstances, I'd rather not go there.

Although, yes, it did involve my parents. It did involve some hullabaloos. It did involve several nurses coming inside Rob's hospital room to find out what the hell all the noises were about. But let's look on the bright side, shall we? At least no bloodshed occurred.

Now if it did, _that_ would sure put an end to all associations with Rob Wilkins, the hottest thing since spontaneous combustion.

Anyway, I'm kind of getting ahead of myself here. Well, so I actually kind of do know why they're making me write it down this time. And since I have to, why not just start right now.

It's all Ruth's fault.

Like the first incident involving Sean Patrick O'Hanahan? Well, this time there was no Jeff Day to punch, which leads to me getting detention, which leads to me being struck by lightning and suddenly have an overdose of psychic powers. Nope. This time, it started with the job at the local radio station. And who got me the job there? Miss Ruthie herself.

According to her, being in charge of the nine to midnight show on the variety station sounded perfect for me. It paid good money, I'd be around suitable people, and she happened to think that the job was more or less normal, and that made me as normal a person as I can be. Whatever, it's all Ruth's theory. I didn't bother to mention to her my curfew is long before twelve a.m. Why? Because _she_ talked my parents into expanding it, and how the job will be a good experience for me and all. I don't know the whole story, since I wasn't there when she was having a 'heart to heart' with _my_ parents, and none of them bothered to relate the whole conversation to me afterwards. I really have no clue what Ruth had told them, but at that moment I didn't really care.

"How could you?" I hissed in her ear at school the next day. "You never even asked me if I wanted the job in the first place!"

"Relax, Jess," She replied breezily. Or tried to sound breezy, anyway. "I know you'll love it. And you can't expect your parents to pay for every single thing you need."

I narrowed my eyes at her. Somehow I can tell that there's more to it than what she's letting on. "Why do you want me to take the job so much anyway? It's not like it's going to do you any good."

Ruth actually looked hurt at that comment. Well, okay, so it did sound like I was implying that she's selfish, which she of course is not. But if your best friend keeps pestering you about a certain job that you've told her you don't want, you get suspicious. I mean, really, what's she gonna gain from this?

"My cousin is the manager there, Jess. I've already secured you an interview with him tomorrow afternoon. Take it or leave it."

And with that, she walked away, leaving me to stare after her, a thousand different thoughts running through my head.

* * *

Friday night at eight p.m., I sat in the penthouse of the radio station building, contemplating murder. Well, okay, that was what I was _supposed_ to be doing. You know, because Ruth had forced me into getting this job. I had passed the interview –okay, totally shocked me, since I acted like a total idiot, not knowing what to say and all- learned the basics, and now here I am. I have to say, I already knew a lot about this kind of stuff before I even came here. Hey, I'm a musical person and I do have some interests besides ditching the FBI, all right?

Well, so the truth is, I was actually starting to enjoy myself. It's actually pretty fun once you get the hang of things. Some of the callers were really nice, welcoming me and all. I have to admit, I thought I did a pretty good job, thinking up crazy ideas for the listeners to call in and just, _do_. Also, I took requests, and I guess the listeners were pretty happy.

I was also feeling pretty good that day myself, since school had just let out for the winter holidays. I have Randy's wedding to look forward to on Christmas Eve, and then I know we'll celebrate at home on Christmas. Perhaps just like on Thanksgiving, I'll motor over to Rob's after dinner and visit him and his mom as well…

Speaking of Rob…

At like around eleven when I was taking phone calls on 'welcome to the show' and things of that sort from the listeners and playing it live, I was really starting to feel like I have a chance at actually being successful with this job Ruth had so kindly _forced_ me to take. So, not suspecting anything at all, I picked at a random line and just went, "Hi, who's this?" with what I hoped was the right amount of enthusiasm and distinction.

And the reply? "Mastriani. You free tomorrow?"

I think I almost dropped the phone when the voice I heard was none other than Rob Wilkins himself. Okay, first of all, he actually listens to the radio? Oh wait… I forgot his knowledge of the whole horse shit back then some days after Thanksgiving. So perhaps, this music actually appeals to someone like him. Yeah right. And secondly, he's calling me here alive to ask _if I'm free tomorrow?_

Rob must know even less about this type of stuff than my mother. And trust me, my mother can't answer a single questions related to radio station trivial to save her marriage. You would think that this and his car parts stuff are closely related so he can understand at least a little of what's going on, but n0o0o. So I sat there, freaking out that it must seem like he's asking me out in front of hundreds (I hope) of listeners, and still, I couldn't figure out what to do.

"Mastriani?" Rob said, not getting the hint of my silence. Not that it seemed like a hint to me at that time, of course. I was just too freaked right then to say anything on air.

However, what I did not understand is how Rob can just sit there, asking me that, while his radio must be playing on the background and he's sure to hear his voice. At least, I was pretty certain that he had his radio on. How else did he know the number?

_Groan._ Or perhaps some people has too good of a memory from listening to this since, I don't know, they can understand English or something. Either way, I had to do something to inform Rob of the situation and to keep him from declaring to the whole population that I happen to be Jessica Mastriani, the ever so famous Lightning Girl. Oh, I can even imagine what kind of phone calls I'll get if someone figures it out… really, I won't be able to take crying and sobbing over the phone because I won't help them find someone or whatever. I'll be fired then for certain.

Or perhaps some people has too good of a memory from listening to this since, I don't know, they can understand English or something. Either way, I had to do something to inform Rob of the situation and to keep him from declaring to the whole population that I happen to be Jessica Mastriani, the ever so famous Oh, I can even imagine what kind of phone calls I'll get if someone figures it out… really, I won't be able to take crying and sobbing over the phone because I won't help them find someone or whatever. I'll be fired then for certain.

And hey, I'm beginning to indeed like job.

So, the Mastriani part was already out. But there has to be a lot of Mastrianis here in this area, right?

Not to worry. I just have to play along with this until Rob gets the hint.

"Well, first of all, who is this?" I asked, trying to sound coy. I couldn't help but notice that nervousness had slipped into my tone also.

Rob, however, didn't appear to notice either of these. "Mastriani. It's me, Rob."

I gritted my teeth together silently. Will he stop saying my last name? "Oh hi, Rob. What's your zip code?"

"Mastriani. What game are you playing?" He was actually starting to sound impatient. I had to do something fast before he completely blows my cover.

Before he could ask me again about tomorrow, I cut in with a chirpy, "Are you calling in to play the Hot Zip?'

"_Mastriani_," He said, and this time I did not fail to note that he was really annoyed. Oh my gosh, and I'm the one here biting my nails. How can guys be so daft at the most important times? "Just answer the question, all right? Are you free tomorrow or not? Because I want to take you to visit my uncle and his children and some other relatives that'll be at the wedding, as a prep- "

"Mr. Rob," I cut in curtly before he tells the whole world –well, _most_ of the world of Indiana anyway- my plans for tomorrow and have some lunatic stalk me all the way outta town. "I believe that you have the wrong person. Perhaps you should turn on your radio?"

The last comment had nothing to do with the conversation at hand to people who happen to be listening. But I was hoping, you know, that Rob will finally get the clue. That he's talking to me on air. I could have easily just turned it off, but what kind of rude person will the listeners think I am then? So, after a bit of silence on the other end, I said in a fake spirited voice into the microphone, "Well, here's the latest from Jojo for you. It's Leave, Get Out. She's young and she's talented, and she's already climbing the charts!"

Then I switched it off. There was a dial tone from the phone with Rob just seconds ago, so I assumed that he had hung up. Grabbing a phone on the desk that's NOT connected to the radio station whatsoever, I dialed Rob's home number. After the first rang, I heard a click.

"Mastriani?"

"Um, yeah," I said slowly. "Listen, sorry about just now. We were talking on air and I didn't want you to, yanno, give out any information about me or anything."

"Yeah," I heard he say, actually sounding a little embarrassed. Somehow I was pretty amused by that. "Sorry," He muttered after awhile.

"No need," I replied cheerfully. "At least you realized what was going on in time. Don't worry about it, Rob." And then, because I really didn't want to go into that anymore, I added, "So what about tomorrow?"

"Feel like going down there to meet my relatives before the wedding? So you'll already be acquainted when comes Christmas Eve."

I snorted. "Rob. Do you just not want to face your squealing cousin alone or something? Cos it sure isn't like you to invite me to any family gatherings."

And it isn't. But maybe the whole 'relationship out in the open' thing changed his view on him and me. Like he feels comfortable enough to introduce to family. Or perhaps he just never had a chance before now. Who knows.

"Jess," When he uses my first name, I know he's serious. "Do you want to go or not?"

"Sure," I said quickly. "When will you pick me up?"

"How does 10 a.m. sound? It's going to be a pretty long trip."

"Yeah, fine by me," I nodded, though I knew he of course would not be able to see me. "I'll be ready."

"Okay, see ya."

"Yeah," I repeated. "See ya."

What, did you expect us to say "_love_ ya" or something? Rob is one hard person to figure out. One minute he's all passionate kisses, and the next it's as if he doesn't even know who the hell I am. _Sigh._ He doesn't have to restrain himself from touching me, if that's what the problem is. Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm definitely no slut. It's just… where Rob is concerned, I find myself… with different priorities.

Ew. Not like that. Really.

But it certainly would be nice if he just tells me outright what he wants sometimes. You would think that if he faced the devils of my parents to keep this relationship going, that he really does like –no, _love_- me. Except some of the things he does, and says, once in awhile causes doubt in my mind if there's more to this whole situation than meets the eye.

So, the night went on. I took more calls, processed more requests, and answered some emails from the listeners. Almost when my time was up, the guy responsible for the midnight show, Jon Sparks, came in.

He was fresh out of college, twenty-three or twenty-four. He nodded toward me as in greeting, and I did the same. I wrapped the night up with saying a goodbye to the listeners, and then prepared to gather my stuff and leave.

"Goodnight, Jess," He said in a husky voice, and cast a look at me as if he knew something that I didn't. One of those secret glances, like something unexpected will happen soon. And he'll have something to do with it.

"Goodnight," I retorted, smiling politely. Then I walked out the door and toward the elevator. I pushed the button, and when the doors opened, I stepped inside into the vacated spot. When it finally reached the bottom floor, I hurriedly got out and went to the parking lot. There, I unlocked my door and drove myself home (yes, I actually passed the test several weeks ago. Somehow I managed to restrain myself from going WAY over the speed limit).

Oh the way to my house, my mind was on the plans for tomorrow and how Rob's relatives will react to him having a somewhat famous psychic for a girlfriend. What I ought to have been thinking, of course, was what to do in case something goes very wrong. But hey, I specialize in finding missing children, not precognition. Duh, I did not anticipate that tomorrow would turn out to be total disaster.

So that, the first thing that happened related to this incident, may have been my own fault. But whatever. The radio station job will play its own role later on. For now, though, I still blame Ruth.

* * *

Notes: I don't know how old you have to be to have a job at a radio station, but in this story, sixteen would be fine. Oh, and I myself have never had any experience before… so pardon me if I get any facts wrong or if it's not the teeniest bit descriptive. Ahh, crazy ideas just pop into my head, and well, me being Enelya, goes along with them even though I haven't the faintest clue what happens next after my 'wow' moment is over.

So yeah. That made sense?

I didn't think so.

Anyway, I know this chapter was really weird. Whatever, it'll turn unweird later on, hopefully. But for now, you better review!

Cos, you know, I can't update unless I have inspiration. And where does most of my inspiration come from?

Yep. Reviews.

So click the little purple button and tell me what you think already!


	2. On the Way There

A/n- First off, I want to thank all of my reviewers for your ridiculously nice reviews. You guys rock. I can't help but love you all.

Second of all, I want to say that I royally suck for not updating in like, seven months. I have some serious procrastinating issues. But, as this is my zillionth attempt at the second chapter, you can't say I haven't tried! And besides, I have slaved over making this even semi-acceptable. It's as far away as it can get from my expectations, but then again, every thing is.

Well, that's all for now… read and review, please!

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Chapter 2

The next day at exactly 10:05 a.m., I was on the back of Rob's motorcycle, feeling happier than I've been in weeks because

a). We were going way over the speed limit, which is like heaven for me. Not that I even know what heaven is like, but I'm just assuming. The sensation I got from riding roughly 100 miles per hour was completely priceless

b). I'm going to meet Rob's relatives soon. Hello, that can mean only one thing, can it? I mean, I don't care what the hell he says about being "already acquainted when comes Christmas Eve." Rob is finally beginning to get used to the fact that I am his freakin' girlfriend and need to be introduced to his nearests and dearests, so it won't be so awkward later on when we're getting married and they have absolutely no clue as to who I am. I can't have them going, "That's Jess Mastriani? She looks like a total midget standing next Rob" now, can I? Not that I think any civilized relative of Rob's would be old-fashioned enough to say that, but nowadays you can't fully predict what can pop out of bratty kiddies' mouths

and…

c). I just found out something about Douglas that I can actually use against him.

That thought should not have crossed my mind while I was pressed against Rob, my arms gripping his washboard abs, my eyes closed as wisps of hair flew out from my ponytail and tickled my face. I should have been thinking only of R-O-B. But, well, you know what they say, you can never escape from your family.

Or something along those lines.

Anyway, you need to know something about my brother Douglas. See, he happens to be very suicidal. He used to hear voices in his head that told him to off himself because God knows why. I've always concluded that Dougie isn't crazy or retarded, like so many fools think, but just deprived. Of what, I haven't reached a full decision yet.

You have to realize that, despite everything, I love Dougie. He would never harm a soul other than, apparently, himself. Except that wasn't even him. He was just influenced by a whole buncha psychos residing within his head.

Anyway, I thought he was a lost cause when it came to ever finding a ladylove, but recently I was proven very, very wrong when Tasha Thompkins came to town along with her parents and her brother. Her brother was soon offed by a racist organization that was full of hypocrites whose actions contradicted their own beliefs, they were that crazy. I'd rather not go there right now, but that story has a happy ending, more or less. Those people are now behind bars where they can't spit any more horse shit, thank goodness.

Okay, back to Douglas and Tasha. I have to admit, I was more than a bit surprised to find them together whispering in the hallway while I stumbled out of my room at around 5:30 in the morning (don't ask; nature just enjoys calling at the most frustrating hours). Much as I was dying to know what they were up to, I kept my mouth shut and walked graciously to the bathroom, ignoring Douglas's glare that would have been the cause of me lying lifelessly on the cold, hard floor (okay, that's totally laying it out there since carpets makes the floor rather soft and warm) if looks could kill.

But I couldn't complain. It's about time Douglas got a love life, or any kind of life at all.

I was still mulling over the fact that MY life had suddenly made a turn for the better when Rob pulled into a gas station and stopped his bike. I blinked against the morning sun, totally unoriented since I had paid zero attention to where we were going.

"We're stopping for gas," Rob informed me as he stepped off the bike in that totally sexy way of his. He has a sexy way of doing everything, whereas if I even attempted to do _anything_ in a remotely un-Jess-like way, I'd not doubt end up falling on my face with dust descending from the sky to cover my shame.

"You need to use the bathroom or need to get a snack or something?" Rob cocked his head and looked at me as I stupidly stood to the side of his motorcycle while he filled it up.

"Right," I nodded. "You want anything?"

"Nah."

So I entered the store, looked for the bathroom, went into a stall, and was just pulling my pants down to pee when I tilted up my head and came face to face with a small picture of a boy no more than 10. Suddenly I felt nauseous and worn out and almost peed before I had the chance to peal off my underwear. All the joy and excitement I had felt just moments before while cruising through the countryside were sucked out of me in one quick motion to the other end of the straw. I sank down on the toilet seat and let out a long sigh.

As much as I was resigned, I was also pissed off. I mean, I understand perfectly well that it is my friggin' duty to find missing kids once a week when Rosemary sends me their photos, but _why oh WHY _do people feel the need to post pictures everywhere? Even bathroom stalls? I've never heard of something so ridiculous. What, did she expect that while people are trying to pee, they'd be staring at her missing son's photo and unexpectedly get a brainstorm of where the kid might be?

Obviously, yes. That's exactly what the person thought. There was a note underneath the photo asking if anyone has seen the kid and a phone number after that. I had no choice but to copy it down on some toilet paper with a pen in my pocket. As ticked off as I might be, I still wasn't heartless enough to ignore a desperate cry for help.

That's what sucks about being a psychic. Sometimes when you think you can just enjoy yourself for once, your job gets in the way… again. An "opportunity" pops out of nowhere and forces you take even the teeniest amount of time from your life that you were actually enjoying.

I could totally see that happening if I had agreed to join Cyrus Krantz's little psychic organization, and that's definitely part of the reason I'd refused. But now, it seems even if I'm not an official psychic, I have to take my job seriously anyway.

I emerged from the store feeling like a deflated balloon that was about to burst only minutes before. Trudging over to Rob, where he stood leaning against his newly filled motorcycle, I plastered a fake smile on my face and chirped, "pretzels?"

Rob didn't buy my fake-peppy attitude at all. He took one look at me and was like, "Jess. What happened?"

Ignoring the fact that Rob had just called me by my first name and how totally cute he looked with his eyebrows drawn together, I bite my lip and tried to look I had no clue what he was talking about. I told him just as much, too.

But either I was a terrible actress, or Rob just knew me too well, because he did not buy it at all. I'd like to think it was the latter.

"Mastriani, you're obviously upset over something," Rob frowned, never taking his eyes off me. "Why do I have the feeling it's related to yet another missing kid?"

"Um," I wrecked my brain for something even semi-intelligent, but came up with nothing. And besides, it's not like Rob isn't just gonna see right through my lie. So when in doubt, tell the truth. At least where Rob is concerned, anyway. "Because it is?"

Rob, looking hotter than ever in his black muscle tee which defined every single muscle on his upper body, drew me closer toward him and asked me softly in his most seductive voice to tell him the whole story.

Maybe it was the way he said my name when he asked me. Maybe it was how out of character it was for Rob to care about the _littlest_ things, relating to my psychic abilities, no less. Maybe it was the reminder once again that no matter how hard I try, I can never run away from being "Cassandra". But anyway… as soon as looked up into Rob's smoky gray eyes, I blinked a few times and than burst into tears…

…In front of the whole crowd of people pumping gas into their cars. They all turned to stare at me. But I just ignored them. Rob drew me closer to him, and I, being the idiot that I was, did not stay in his arms and sob all over his shirt. Instead, I broke away from our embrace and ran into the gas station bathroom.

Very idiotic thing to do, I know. Especially since the alternative was to be hugged by the man I've always loved.

The thing is, I just couldn't face him right then. It _was_ the first time that I've broken down in public, you know. Me, Jessica Mastriani, the tomboy, the one who beats up everyone that pisses her off, do not _cry_ when things don't go her way. It just doesn't happen. It's just not in my nature to break like that.

But then again, I guess even the toughest, most manly girl would sooner or later have to cry under _some_ kind of circumstance. Mine just happened to be over a job I didn't want to do.

I stayed in that bathroom for some time, kicking the walls and muttering about how unfair the whole thing is. The next time I go to sleep, I'll wake up knowing where another kid is, and then I'll have to phone his mother. Of course, the story doesn't stop there. It NEVER does. Some kind of complications almost always ensue after that.

And frankly, as I'm sure you've noticed, I just don't want to deal with that right now. Right now, not as in this second. Right now, as in not _now_, not _ever_.

When I finally opened the door to the bathroom, still sniffling (and looking even crappier than before), I almost got knocked down by the big frame of Rob in the doorway. Jumping up five feet into the air and holding my hands over my heart, I gaped at him.

"You've… you've been here all this time?" were the words I at last managed to get out from my throat. I was just so surprised. I don't know what I imagined (okay, so I thought that Rob perhaps had driven away on his Indian, leaving me decaying in the Women's Bathroom at QuikTrip, where stained walls are its motto), but it sure wasn't THIS.

Waiting for me for, like, 30 minutes was just such a considerate and _nice_ thing to do… Not that I'm saying Rob isn't the most thoughtful boyfriend on the planet, that is.

Okay, so maybe he isn't, since thoughtful boyfriends don't care about dating someone who's jailbait (not that thoughtful guys would commit any crime that would get them on probation in the first place), but that's beside the point right now.

Rob nodded, regarding me with a perplexed expression that not only looked oh so droolworthy, but was also really un-Roblike.

He pulled me toward him, cradling my head in his arms. I was shocked out of my wits that Rob was showing any affection at all toward me in public that at first I just froze up. Stopped breathing, sniffling, wiping my nose completely. It wasn't until I noticed people staring at us that I finally realized that I should relax and enjoy the not-so-often feeling of Rob hugging ME, instead of the other way around.

"Jess?" Rob murmured into my hair (Which was a mess, by the way).

"Hm?" I mumbled, tightening my arms around him.

"Let's just go, okay? Forget about whatever kid you're supposed to be finding. You won't have to worry about it unless… you fall asleep or whatever before tonight."

Then he let go of me. Trying not to be too obvious about how disappointed I was, I nodded my agreement with what he just said. Rob was right. And it's not like worrying or obsessing over it was going to do any good anyway.

So Rob led me to his motorcycle, and we got on. I grabbed onto his washboard abs and waited for the engine to start. Soon, we were on our way to his relatives' again.

On the way there, I have to say, I started to feel A LOT better. I was in heaven again, riding at a speed of at least 100 miles per hour with the man who may prove to love me just as much as I love him. For a while, I even forgot about The Problem.

Little did I know that when I arrived at our destination, The Solution would be right in front of my love-blind eyes.

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A/n- I deserve to have bombs hurled at me for writing something that stank more than the cheese at Andrew Jackson's inauguration ceremony. How the cheese would smell now if preserved, I mean. Not how it smelled at the time in those huge wheelbarrows.

Anyway, I'm sorry if you hate this chapter, I hate it too. But I'm tired of writing drafts after drafts of bullcrap. All my previous attempts at chapter 2 have been deleted and I can NOT delete one more attempt. Well, okay, so I can, but I don't feel like it. And I know you people will think I have no self-respect for posting something I myself don't even like, but the thing is… … … … … …

Okay, I can't think of a good excuse. Wow, I've even lost my imagination. Shoot me, please.

Please review (or flame). I'd HIGHLY appreciate it. _:smiles:_


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